


Here On Out

by MayorMimi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Advice, Awkward Conversations, Books, Comfort, Fluff, Food, Gen, Light-Hearted, Lunch, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sharing Clothes, Shyness, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorMimi/pseuds/MayorMimi
Summary: Marnie and Raihan's spontaneous encounters spark an unlikely friendship.
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan & Mary | Marnie
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	Here On Out

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:  
> mayormimii.tumblr.com  
> Feel free to contact me there with questions or comments.

“Marnie, was it?”

Marnie had just been browsing the romance section in the silence of a bookstore when a throaty voice calling her name made her jump in her spot. Twitching like prey caught in the line of sight of a predator, she spun on her heel to face the massive figure that had cast a shadow over the shelves before her. “Oh, it’s just you, ” breathed Marnie.

Raihan waved half-heartedly. “‘ _It’s just you_ ’? You wound me.” She found the aviators resting on his head curious considering the time of night. “Anyway, I just thought I’d say hi. Don’t let me keep you—“

“Not at all, I’m done.” Marnie hugged the thick hard-back to her chest. The girl felt positive the shop was empty when she arrived; Marnie ascertained as much to herself before entering. The new gym leader of Spikemuth expected her first win against a gym challenger to help her surpass her sheepishness at least a little bit, but that didn’t seem to be the case. On the contrary, it only placed her under the scrutiny of Galar’s countless eyes and brought out a myriad of badgering journalists or photographers. 

If anything could force her to sink deeper into her metaphorical shell, it was being brought into the limelight. The same could be said about coming face-to-face with easily the most extroverted gym leader in the history of Galar’s league. She had heard from Piers how—to borrow her brother’s words—“ _irritating and self-absorbed_ ” Raihan was. Recognizing the brutal honesty natural to all friendships in his words, Marnie took Piers’s word for it and avoided Raihan in any situation that didn’t involve a Pokémon battle. Marnie was never keen on extroverts.

“ _Sense and Sensibility_ ,” noted Raihan, “I never took you for a romantic.”

“A friend recommended it,” she lied, feeling color rise to her cheeks. Marnie’s fingers nearly tightened their grip on the book before its weight vanished from her hands. Raihan could lift it in just one—and had to, considering the photography book in his other arm.

He raised it a few inches past her reach. “Let me hold it for you.” Raihan had already turned towards the cashier to check the books out before he sensed something tugging on the edge of his jacket. Looking back, he discovered Marnie had been pinching the end of his dragon hoodie. “What’s up, girlie?”

“I’m not ready to go. Yet.” Her hands returned to fiddle with the skirt of her lace dress, almost apologetically.

Marnie’s flat face didn’t answer any question he’d been left with; her eyes only darted away. He followed her line of version towards the store window, and the two watched the crowded street become the recipient of throngs of people meeting or dispersing. Raihan readdressed Marnie’s face, making out a skittish expression at last. When her eyes met his, the corner of Raihan’s lips twitched with amusement. “Stubborn fans, eh?”

She left the question in the air. If memory served Raihan right, that was how Piers said, “ _Yes_ ,” when he didn’t want to.

“I’ve got an idea.” He returned nonchalantly to strolling towards the counter and leaving a bewildered Marnie to watch with furrowed little brows. Once the books sat by the cash register and the clerk busied himself with scanning them, Raihan pinched the back of his jacket with a thumb and index finger, tugging it over his head to pull the whole thing off, before he gestured Marnie towards him. This snapped her out of her bemusement, and the girl was quick to follow before the cashier was done bagging the books. “Take this.”

“Huh?” His jacket was bunched in her arms all at once.

She stared at the black fabric, not registering. “Well, what are you waiting for? Throw it on.”

“Oh.“ Marnie quickly stuck her face into the mouth of the hoodie, which was so large, she struggled to navigate it in search of an opening to poke her head through. Her hands emerged—as well as they could—through the sleeves before her face finally resurfaced. Once the fabric wasn’t blocking her view, she took in the rare sight of Raihan out of his signature dragon hoodie. The form-fitting black t-shirt he was left in did well to contrast with the massive jacket that brushed against Marnie’s knees.

Raihan lifted the bag containing their books and gestured for Marnie to follow him back to the entrance. He came to a dead stop when she caught up, turned to her, and scrutinized the girl as she repeatedly attempted to roll the sleeves of his jacket up. Raihan had his head cocked meditatively and his hands on his hips until a lightbulb overhead almost visibly broke and his eyebrows shot up to welcome a satisfying conclusion, though Marnie didn’t foresee the conclusion would involve Raihan removing his aviators to force onto her face; if they looked big on him at all, they looked oversized on the girl.

Pulling the hood up over her head, Marnie supposed the shades obscured her features well, before she felt Raihan’s arm hooking around her shoulders and pulling her closer took Marnie by surprise. “Bear with me,” he mumbled as the automatic doors opened and breathed a rush of icy wind into the store— _Hammerlocke was far colder than Spikemuth_ , she concluded, especially at night, though that didn’t seem to drive its citizens away from shopping outdoors and crowding the streets.

They stepped out onto the cobblestone, and Marnie could truly sense how elevated Hammerlocke was from the land surrounding it when it occurred to her she’d never felt so close to the night sky. In that old-fashioned town, there wasn’t enough light pollution to erase the stars that contrarily seemed to be the sole source of light beyond the lamp posts, and Marnie had to tip her sunglasses to see them. 

“Fan of stargazing, too, I see,” remarked Raihan. She noted the way his breath steamed in the frosty air as he spoke and likened him to a dragon, before it occurred to her that she’d been so distracted by the stars, Marnie would’ve likely crashed into a lamp post within seconds of leaving the store had it not been for Raihan leading her through the street. “Heading home, I presume?”

  
“Yeah.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sky when, in the dark blue, Marnie spotted the silhouette of a winged Pokemon circling the stars. Raihan brought his index finger and thumb to his mouth before a whistle echoed through the street and caught the attention of the Corviknight above them. 

Realizing his arm was still around her shoulders, he withdrew it. “Sorry.”

“No, not at a—”  
  
“It was nice meeting you, Marnie.” Raihan extracted a paper-back from the store’s paper bag and passed the book to her. There was a familiarity in his tone the second time he said her name that wasn’t present in the first, which Marnie found somehow remarkable. “I’m having friends for dinner at _Rising Sun_ so I’ll see you later.” He punctuated their brief encounter with a wave before turning away and vanishing into the crowd.

  
  


On Marnie’s hands when she got home were three objects that didn’t belong to her—chiefly, a paper-back book titled _The Art Of Photography_. It wasn’t like anything she was accustomed to, but then, Marnie supposed she never cared for non-fiction. Nevertheless, it squeezed into a crowded shelf above her desk and stuck out like a sore thumb between the novels and comic books.

Her bed’s blush pink sheets clashed heavily with the navy jacket and sunglasses resting on it. The hoodie would’ve fit in better in her wardrobe, but Marnie wasn’t about to lump it with her leather jackets and crepe-colored dresses when it wasn’t hers. She allowed them to rest on her bed as a compromise as if there was a chance Raihan would materialize outside her room at any second demanding for all of his belongings back. Marnie nearly suspected as much when she heard a door down the hall break the silence.

She poked her head out of her bedroom and scanned the hallway until her eyes fell on Piers untying his hair while rolling his neck. _Long day,_ she presumed. 

“You’re back early,” observed her older brother, who became the recipient of an insouciant shrug from his sibling. “Congrats on your first win, by the way. Saw a video of the battle on my way back.”

“‘T’was nothing.”

“That so?” Piers ran his bony fingers through his hair while pressing down on the door handle with his elbow. After pushing the door open with his knee, he readdressed Marnie. “Dunno if I’d say that about _my_ first time.”

“The press’s up my arse ‘bout the fight. I don’t suppose they were as noisy about it when you started.”

“ _Little girl who inherited the title of the seventh gym leader, when her black sheep of a brother vamoosed to become a rock star, aces her first battle._ What’s there not to be noisy about? But you get used to it…” He leaned onto the door frame as her shoulders dropped with weariness. “Have you been going through my bathroom, by the way?”

“Why?”

“You reek of cologne.” Piers could think of another explanation but didn’t want to. He didn’t wait for a reply, either, before turning away and closing the door behind him. When Marnie brought the inside of her elbow to her nose, she caught a vague whiff of amber and spice.

Marnie assumed the newly garnered attention after her first win only encompassed pestering reporters and nagging fans. Laying in her bed that night, curled up under her blanket with her phone inches from her face, she realized how grossly she underestimated the ordeal. The girl had already become prey to hateful remarks online. 

“ _When’ll Marnie outgrow acting like a discount Piers? Maybe if she stopped wasting money on eyeliner she’d have enough to get herself a personality_.” 

“ _Just saw Marnie’s narrow win. Would’ve been excited if this was 2004_.”

“ _Piers’s sister has to be the most incompetent trainer since the guy that couldn’t catch a Rattata with a master ball—_ ” 

“All right,” grumbled Marnie as she set her phone down, “I get it.” Considering how juvenile the remarks were, Marnie could never foresee herself allowing comments like those get under her skin. Falling for them seemed beneath her until then and there. It was easy to think she was immune to trolls on the internet dishing out less-than-original insults when they existed worlds away—where celebrities lived.

“I guess I’m in the limelight now.”

  
  


“Just ignore them.”

Piers spoke through a mouthful of mushrooms and baked beans that morning, so although Marnie sat across from him at the breakfast table, it was difficult to ascertain whether she heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“Tune ‘em out.” He punctuated his statement with a stab at a slice of fried bread. “You’re bound to become the target of slander in this line of work. Shitheads like those are a dime-a-dozen on the internet. If you can’t turn a blind eye to them, you won’t be able to move on.”

“But what if they’re neither?” Marnie watched her brother clear his plate and rinse the food down with coffee. He rose from the table with the empty plate in one hand and mug in the other to approach the kitchen. Piers didn’t seem like he was about to speak for some time, and his sister couldn’t help but wonder if he knew the answer at all.  
  
Piers dropped the dish in the sink and finally readdressed her. “Doubting yourself, huh?” She rolled her eyes upon hearing this. “What did we say about—”  
  
“This isn’t about self-assurance. I _know_ I’m not as bad as they say I am, but can I be sure that isn’t how everyone secretly sees me?”

“I don’t see you that way.”  
  
“ _You_ put me in charge.” She folded her arms and reclined. “You wouldn’t get it, anyway. It’s not like you have any online presence so you’re essentially immune.”  
  
“Then follow my example and just delete all your social media accounts. Ignorance is bliss.” 

The two dropped the discussion entirely. For the next few hours, Piers had been draped over the sofa, searching the ceiling for _‘inspiration’_. Marnie took that as her cue to leave him alone; she was in no mood to speak to him after her futile search for reassurance, in any case. He didn’t seem to notice, either, when she left the apartment for lunch. Marnie wondered if Piers ever remembered to have lunch whenever she was away.

_Rising Sun_ served the best rice and curry according to Bea, who claimed to have walked to Hammerlock every other evening just to have dinner there. Marnie thanked Arceus for Corviknight transportation when she made it there precisely at noon before it’d allegedly get crowded in an hour or two. Examining the interior, it looked like Bea was right—there wasn’t a customer in sight, as far as Marnie could see. She had planned on having lunch in the company of only her book, but as she stepped further inside, a young man seemed to have been planning the same thing. As he sat alone, a thin menu had been pinned under his bronze elbow to hold up a book he lost himself in.

Marnie hadn’t mentally prepared herself to face Raihan. She froze in her spot, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she contemplated eating somewhere else. The previous night left Marnie feeling awkward about him, seeing something in him past her simplistic first impression. She stood in her spot teetering precariously between making a run for it and just taking a seat as she had planned when Raihan glanced up from the book. Marnie was unfortunate enough to fall into his line of sight, and there was a sudden alteration in his expression when his eyes fell on her.

“Fancy meeting you here.” He pinned his thumb between the pages and grinned invitingly, gesturing for her to take a seat before him. Marnie obediently took the chair facing his and noted as Raihan reclined further into his seat that he was a bit too large for it. She arched a brow, rethinking her assumption Piers was the tallest person she knew. “First time?”  
  
“Yeah.” Marnie slid the carte du jour towards her, thumbing it open for a quick once-over. “But I have an idea of what I want.” She heard the footsteps of a third individual approach her table, but Marnie still found it startling when she lifted her head to be greeted by a waiter who had abruptly appeared. His robotic nature and immaculate appearance vaguely resembled the trainers of Raihan’s gym, leading Marnie to wonder if all the men of Hammerlocke looked like that.

She watched Raihan list his order generally composed of foreign words she found difficult to pronounce, musing, “ _All the men but one_ .” When the heads of both men turned to her, Marnie drew herself up several inches stiffly and said, “I’ll have _harees_ , and—er— _kharoub_ juice.” Despite the waiter’s nod as he withdrew the menu, Marnie couldn’t help but wonder if she enunciated the words correctly. Doubt preoccupied her while the waiter repeated their order until he vanished with the shadowy irrelevance yet off-putting bulk of the third party. Finally, the two were alone again.

Left in the silence, it occurred to Raihan that it was _that_ time of the day.

Every place has a moment of the day, a slant and intensity of light, in which it looks its best. Raihan had spent enough time at the _Rising Sun_ to learn that time was noon and look forward to it. Catching Marnie in that gentle light almost tempted him to tear his phone out for a photograph. Only two things marred the sight: her tense shoulders and furrowed brows. “…So, how’s it feel to finally be a gym leader?”  
  
“...Meh.” 

“I heard about what happened. Should help you break into your new shoes, huh?”

“You mean my first battle? I guess that’s one way to put it.”  
  
“Is that a yes, or—?”  
  
“I agree.” She waved a hand as if to dismiss any doubt. “I just mean that’s probably the nicest thing you can say about it.”  
  
“You’re selling yourself short. Like, hey, you won. That’s something.”

“Winning’s the bare minimum when you’re a gym leader,” she disputed, leaning towards him assertively. Marnie recalled Raihan’s ten-nil losing streak against Leon before he lost a few more times to a pack of children. She drew herself back. “Sorry, did that—”  
  
“Hit close to home? Maybe,” Raihan chuckled.

Marnie’s head tilted inquisitively. “...How do you do that?”  
  
“Do what?”

“Doesn’t that offend you?” She brought her hand to the back of her neck, resembling her brother more than ever.

Raihan’s eyes cast around her face for any indication of what she could have meant. Like her brother, it was a futile search. “Were you trying to offend me?”  
  
“Of course not.”  
  
“It’s settled, then.” 

The conversation died quickly, leaving the two to read their respective books in a silence that was tense for Marnie and indistinct to Raihan. Marnie was careful not to look up from her copy of _Much Ado About Nothing_ , for the fear of meeting his gaze. She couldn’t even acknowledge it when the waiter brought their beverages along with a dish of dates; Marnie wasn’t willing to risk giving the impression that her broken silence was an indication she was ready to speak again.

Their dishes followed suite within half an hour. Piled onto Raihan’s dish was basmati rice topped with cardamom and saffron. Marnie stirred the harees idly, waiting for it to cool. “How long does this usually take?”

“I don’t know.” Raihan had already begun eating as if the hot steam rising from the dish meant nothing to him. “I just dig in.”

“ _How dragon-like_ ,” mumbled the voice in Marnie’s head. Aloud, she asked: “Is it that good?”

“Ha. Not as good as my grandmother’s.” He paused, stirring his avocado smoothie with a straw. Raihan contemplated the glass before he spoke again. “I used to have it for lunch at her place every Friday.”

“I’d like to try that, one day.” Marnie smiled for the first time in a while. “You make her _kabsa_ sound delicious.”

“It was.” Raihan brought the straw to his lips.

Marnie took a moment to register. _Oh_. “...I’m sorry.”

“Mm.” He waved away unease. “My mom’s kabsa isn’t half-bad, either.”  
  
“You two sound close.” That was where Marnie diverged from her brother; cynical humor was lost on her.  
  
Raihan considered his words carefully. “That’s how it was; just her and I.”  
  
“And your father, if I may?”  
  
“Not around much. Wouldn’t have it any other way, though.” Marnie could understand that. After losing her parents at a young age and after her older brother took her in, she found herself growing more emotionally attached to Piers than her mother and father. Sometimes, Marnie didn’t mind that it was only the two of them in their little home.

Nevertheless, the conversation stewed something in her. The revelation Raihan wasn’t born cosseted never occurred to Marnie before when it seemed to her he was carefree by nature. She always seemed to find Raihan caught in a knot of reporters with that permanent grin—“ _Is he enjoying the attention_?”—or laughing with A-list personalities. He was such an easy target for silent resentment from the likes of Marnie, that realizing how similar her behavior was then to those she complained about just that morning elicited guilty knots in the pit of her stomach.

She heard a clunk from the edge of her plate and looked up to find Raihan had tapped it with his fork. “Gonna eat that?”  
  
“Right.” Marnie started, hurrying to scoop up a spoonful of harees. 

“Why so doom-and-gloom, sunshine?”

“What’re you…?”  
  
“You’ve got that look in your eyes. Something’s up, isn’t it?”

“It’s just something I’ve had on my mind for a while. But...you wouldn’t be able to help.”  
  
“Try me.” He propped his elbows up onto the headrest behind him, crossing his legs and staring at Marnie with expectancy. “I already gave you the specifics of my sob story. Quid pro quo.”

The plate and glass before him were empty— _Crap_. Marnie folded her arms across her torso, biting her lower lip at his sudden interest. Unable to look at Raihan anymore, she turned her face the other way like how swimmers turn to breathe, eyes darting towards a grandfather clock behind him that had stopped ages ago.

Seeing the way her ears turned pink made a smirk tug at the corner of Raihan’s lips. “Quicker than that, I’m not waiting for your worst invention.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone I said this?”

“Promise—” When he noticed a white pinkie held up so close to his face, Raihan nearly went cross-eyed. He sighed and linked it in his.

Marnie was quick to break the linkage. “I think people are upset I’m ‘replacing’ Piers.”  
  
“People? What people?”  
  
“Last night, I was called a ‘weak echo’ of my brother. This morning, I was labeled insufferable and conceited.”

“You believe any of that?”  
  
“Obviously not.”  
  
“Then?”

“...Look, I get it.” Her tone shifted testily. “I know, I’m supposed to ignore them. I’m supposed to tune them out. I’m a gym leader, after all—”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it?” Raihan knew how badly he wanted to be wise; he knew how young men could be so desperate for wisdom, they fabricated it at the expense of gullible children--so he spoke only of what he knew. Marnie could see that from the clarity in his eyes. “Like a gnawing in your chest you shrug off as if it isn’t still haunting you, but the remains sting because you know there’s at least a little truth to what they say.”

“...Yeah.”  
  
“That’s fine. Nobody said criticism never hurt.”

“How’d you know all this?”  
  
“How old are you again?” Raihan took a second to remember. “I think I was a few years younger than you are now when I became a gym leader.”

“They picked on a _middle schooler_? No, wait—” Marnie counted the years off on her fingers. 

He cut her off. “It doesn’t matter how old—or young, for that matter—I was. Some people just don’t have anything better to do. Whatever they say never stops getting to me, I didn’t start pretending they weren’t there.” He drew himself up, leaning towards her and lowering his voice as if there were listeners under the table. “Rather than lying to myself, I just kept going.”  
  
“Just like that?”  
  
“Just like that.”

“Huh…” Marnie had begun to put some thought into his words when she was interrupted by the sight of a bill resting on the table between them. “Oh, allow me—” She stood and immediately fumbled for her purse in search of her wallet. 

Raihan already had a few banknotes lifted in the fork of his fingers. “Sit down, I’ve got it covered.”  
  
“But you—” A little shrill. She tried again, “But you already paid for the books last night.”  
  
“Books, nothing. _I_ invited you to sit with me.”

“I suppose…” Her voice dropped with resignation. When Raihan rose from his seat, the two left the table, heading for the entrance. That was when Marnie stopped in her tracks, prompting her companion to do the same. “Say, think we can do this again anytime soon?” She tugged on her fingers, uncertain.  
  
Opening the door for her, Raihan smiled. “I’d like that.”

When they stepped outside, Marnie noted that waves of shoppers had been entering the Rising Sun just as the two gym leaders left. “Corviknight again today, I assume?”

“I can walk home on my own.” Marnie noted the familiar cover of Raihan’s novel. “Well, well. I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

Raihan started, lifting _Sense and Sensibility_ to remove the bookmark from the center. “Just keeping it warm for you. See if your friend’s recommendation was on the mark.”

“Was it?”  
  
“I’d hate to leave it half-finished. Let your little friend know she can keep my photography book, as thanks.”  
  
“She’ll be happy to hear that.” Marnie watched Raihan turn, presumably to vanish into the crowd. 

Out of the blue, he stopped to look over his shoulder. “And, hey—”

“Yeah?”

“Things are looking up from here on out.”

**Author's Note:**

> As an extrovert, it was a challenge to write Marnie (introvert) putting up with one.


End file.
